


rush into my green arms

by auzu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Redemption, Reincarnation, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 09:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12603152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auzu/pseuds/auzu
Summary: Severus Snape welcomes death in the Shrieking Shack, only to awake in the body of the newly-born James Potter. How will the dour Potions Master fare, wearing the skin of his most hated schoolboy rival?





	rush into my green arms

Severus sank into the welcome embrace of death, allowing it to overtake his pain. As he drifted away, he knew that he would not become a ghost. Severus had always longed to escape his world and its endless, unwanted burdens that had foisted themselves upon him, beginning from birth.

Everything was dark, and Severus floated in nothingness. As far as he could tell, his sight had vanished. Yet Severus was at peace. In life, flying was when he had felt the freest. Whenever he was soaring above the world, he free of any master, whether that was Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. Now, in this strange new dimension, Severus took familiar comfort in the envelope of darkness as he sailed through it.

After some time, Severus spotted a pinprick of light in the left corner of his rediscovered field of vision. He swiveled his form towards the light. The light grew and grew at a steady, ponderous pace.

By the time the light had engulfed his vision, Severus could not tell if it had been a minute or several hundred years. The light was as bright as a supernova and its incandescence and searing heat stung Severus. Before he could turn from it, the light receded at a much faster pace than it had grown. It was still present, but Severus was able to peer at what was before him without wincing.

The scene was quite familiar to him. It was King’s Cross Station, a place through which Severus had passed many times in his school years. He surveyed the silent station, which swam in light and a fine, pervasive mist. There was not a single soul, not a single train. Severus took a step forwards and realized that he had a body, one which was completely naked. He assessed his form and concurred that it was nigh identical to the one which he had possessed before his death.

Severus stretched out his long limbs and noted that he was still marked with stains from brewing potions and scars from his turbulent youth. Yet his left arm was as clean as the day he had entered Hogwarts. Severus smiled. At last, he had broken the shackles that Voldemort had spelled into his being, shackles that Severus had accepted.  

The absence of the Dark Mark reminded Severus of another serpent, and he reached up to his neck. Severus grimaced as he found where Nagini had sunk her fangs into him. Although the wound remained, there was no blood, no wetness, and no pain as he felt around it. He let his hand fall to his side. Was this to be his afterlife? He pondered the significance of King’s Cross. The station marked his transition into becoming an official member of the magical world, although his father had beat that into him enough.

Severus shook himself to banish that unpleasant train of thought. King’s Cross was where he and Lily had boarded their very first train to Hogwarts. The ride had been a breath of fresh air, a brief respite between the abuse that occurred at home and the bullying that was to come at school, not to mention his induction into the services of the Dark Lord as well as Dumbledore.

Severus realized that his first train ride on the Hogwarts Express had been the only time, the only location, and the only circumstance during which he had been an innocent youth with a glimmer of a future ahead of him. If only he had known what a dark and death-filled future awaited him.

Severus blinked and found wetness forming in his eyes. He sighed. It seemed that death was making him mawkish.

Severus came to the conclusion that King’s Cross was not an unpleasant place in and of itself, even if it did conjure up what had come both before and after it. It wasn’t a particularly good afterlife, and it wasn’t a particularly terrible one either.

Not that he had ever thought he would end up in a better place. Severus knew full well that, even having done so much for Dumbledore and the Potter boy, the sins of his dark and tumultuous life could not, would not, fade away. He did not consider himself redeemed. Was he damned? He was unsure. Winding up in King’s Cross was confirmation that he was somewhere in the middle. Severus glanced around once more, and snorted. Leaning more towards damned. He could see himself going mad here, if he were not so accustomed to solitude.

Severus spotted a bench underneath a clock. The clock was in pristine shape, but it was not ticking. Severus sat on the bench and leaned back. The shadow of the clock draped itself like an old friend over his hooked nose and furrowed brow. Severus crossed his arms and made a conscious decision to relax. Mayhap someone as damned as he would come along, or not. For the timeless time being, he would wait.

It was only a second, or twelve minutes, or three centuries later that Someone came along. Severus startled from his fugue-like state by  the sound of the clock ticking. He felt a chill seep into his naked body, and turned to face them.

“You,” Severus said. Only, he had no vocal chords, so no sound came out. Severus made several attempts before giving up, his face settling into a most terrible scowl.

Someone only chuckled, then reached out with a finger to tap Severus on the throat. Severus choked as he felt a flap of skin over his larynx separate into his new vocal chords. It was an upsetting experience, and Severus leaned over the side of the bench to gag.

Nothing came out, and Severus wiped the spit off his mouth.

“I apologize, Severus. I was unaware that your body had not been completely regenerated. Everything ought to be in working order at this point.” He smiled. “It’s good to see you, my dear boy.”

“It’s…I’m glad to see you as well,” Severus said, more hesitant than usual as he tried not to think about flashes of green and toppling figures. “Dumbledore. It’s good to see you.”

The old man smiled. He wore light blue robes, and his beard was just as long and his eyes were just as sparkling blue as the day before he had placed the cursed ring on his finger. He clapped Severus on the shoulder.

“Come with me. It’s time you saw what lies beyond the station.”

Severus stood, and the station melted away from beneath him, starting with the bench. The end transformation was an infinite meadow, filled with vivid blooms and stretching out until it kissed the everlasting blue sky. Severus thought that if he ran in the meadow, he would never be able to reach the end.

He looked down and saw that he was wearing robes like Dumbledore’s, but they were a light yellow rather than blue. They were comfortable, as were the sandals that had appeared on his feet.

Severus noticed a dirt path in the meadow. He tracked the path with his eyes until it ended at a small cottage with green shutters and a cheerful, piping chimney.

“Let’s talk over a nice cup of tea,” Dumbledore said. He gestured for Severus to follow him and they walked towards the cottage.

Once they were inside, Dumbledore had a pot boiling while Severus searched for cups and tea bags. He found exactly two of each and set them out on the table. While Dumbledore poured out the hot water, Severus looked out the window and saw that there was a vast forest running alongside the meadow. He took a steaming mug from Dumbledore and nursed it in his hands.

“Where is this place?” Severus asked. “And why did King’s Cross disappear?”

“It was a waiting room,” Dumbledore replied. “This place is also a bit of a waiting room, although I find it to be much more pleasant that the station.”

Severus had to agree. “What lies beyond this?”

“The afterlife,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle. “It’s a wonderful place, Severus.”

Severus sipped on his tea. “Why are you here instead?”

“I am here to offer you a choice, Severus.”

Severus found himself reminded of the machinations the Headmaster had put into play during his life. He had no desire to dance on Dumbledore's string after death. Without a word he took another sip of the tea, using the cup to hide his dark expression.

Dumbledore continued on. “But before that, I’ve seen how you’ve helped Harry. Thank you, my dear boy.”

Another unpleasant reminder. “In the end, was the Potter boy slaughtered after all?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Severus,” the Headmaster said with a sigh.

Severus’ face grew stormy. “You were able to view what happened up until my demise. Why obfuscate what has happened after my death?”

“I apologize, Severus. I didn’t mean to keep the truth from you out of ill will. There is something much larger at play and you will need to be as uninformed as possible.”

“Another one of your missions?” Severus asked, a bitter edge to his voice. “Was I summoned to do your bidding, even in death?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Not a mission, my dear boy. A second chance.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have the opportunity to live again, to be born into the world.”

Severus scoffed. “So I would be born as myself again, for what purpose? To change what has already happened? Is this your way of offering me redemption, Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Severus, it is not about redemption, nor is it even about changing. I am not the one offering this to you. It is the Powers that Be, the source of all magic and everything beyond the scope of our understanding. The Powers have decided that you may have this chance.”

“What exactly is this chance?” Severus asked, suspicious.

“You will finally have the chance to love and to be loved. These are the greatest gifts life has to offer us, Severus. I am glad that you might have the opportunity to experience them.”

Severus mused over this. He wasn’t quite sure if he could trust Dumbledore, even in death when the old man didn’t have anything to gain, except for his own self-satisfaction in Severus choosing something like “love” and the “chance to be loved”.

The alternative seemed to be spending an eternity with the coot, so Severus decided it wouldn’t be too bad to try and live again. As long as he didn’t end up back in King’s Station or anywhere with Dumbledore in it, he would be happy. Hadn’t Severus deserved a break from the scheming old man?

“I accept,” Severus said.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled with mirth, and Severus’ hackles raised. What wasn’t Dumbledore telling him?

But before he could say anything, Dumbledore pulled him into a firm hug and patted him on his back. “Goodbye, Severus. Welcome to the world, once more.”

Severus felt forces push on him from all sides. He squeezed his eyes shut as air swirled and howled around him. He found himself shrinking and opened his eyes only to see Dumbledore and the meadow melt away like rain happening in reverse. Lights and colors beyond his imagination shot all around him, and he heard a roar that reverberated and crescendoed until it was all he could think about. Severus gave a loud shout of his own, but it died in the void.

The inferno of sounds and sights faded, and Severus opened his eyes. He saw that he was now in possession of a transparent spirit-like form rather than a body. Well, he had preferred the body.

Rubbing at his pounding head, or rather whatever was his new head, Severus noticed that he was in a bedroom. He peered outside the window. In contrast to the fantastical lights and colors of his journey, the scene outside was a grey, overcast day. The trees outside quavered as the wind rushed past them. It seemed to be late autumn or winter. Severus looked around the room for a calendar and found one hanging on the wall opposite the bed.

It told him that it was 1960 but nothing beyond that, since it was one of those ridiculous entire-year calendars with all the months and dates on them. Severus groaned when he realized that none of the days were circled or crossed out either. But then, he realized that a day as cold as it was in 1960 might be in January 1960, when he had first been born.

The door opened, and a round-faced woman with bright, brown eyes and a practiced look about her entered. She wore a sensible robes and carried a wand. A good omen. The Wizarding World was much more receptive towards haunts and frights than the Muggle one.

Behind her came in a pregnant woman with long, black tresses. The hair on Severus’ not-body almost rose, but then he saw that, even with similar hair, the woman was definitely not Eileen Prince. Severus frowned. He decided to leave and have a look around the area. As he passed through the nurse and entered the hallway, he cursed Dumbledore’s reticence.

Severus wandered the floor without purpose, letting hospital equipment and staff pass through him. He peered into every room, but found no sign of his mother. After observing trolleys of familiar remedies, some of which he had brewed countless times, he wondered if he were at St. Mungo’s. Severus couldn’t actually hear what the other people were saying. Everything was muted. Severus sighed and decided to return to the room he had materialized in. He hoped that Eileen was due to be in that room after the other black-haired woman.

After thirty-eight years and parents who weren’t too keen on sharing details about his birth, Severus wasn’t sure where or what time of day he had been born. It could very well have been in a Latvian sanatorium at midnight for all he knew.

He was about to re-enter the room but then decided to stay outside. The woman wasn’t in labor yet, but Severus had no desire to stick around and see some stranger’s progeny poke its head out. He decided to wait until his own mother would arrive.

Severus drifted off into sleep and dreamt of large, green eyes that swallowed him up.

The piercing cry of a newborn baby woke Severus. He groaned. Never having had children, nor having enjoyed the company of the brats that ran underfoot at Hogwarts, he was rather annoyed.

Severus decided to wander inside to see how much longer the mother would be inside. As he drifted in, he noticed that the baby was already clean and pressed against its mother’s chest. Severus cursed as he realized that the mother would most likely be in the room with her child for a while. Where was Eileen to be?

He looked at the child, and felt a strange pull to examine it closer. Severus floated on over. The baby was no longer crying. It turned to look at Severus with the large, blue eyes of a newborn. Severus waved at the child, and startled when the baby followed the movements of his hand.

“You’re an odd little brat, aren’t you?” He asked the baby.

It gurgled in response and waved its chubby little hands in the air. The mother smiled at the child, and Severus scoffed. It wasn’t as if her sprog were anything special.

Unless, the thought came to his mind, it was the only being that could interact with him.

With Severus’ interest piqued, he was curious to see if the baby would be able to touch his hand, or pass through him like all the other people. Severus stretched out his hand towards the baby. The baby grasped his index finger in the clutch, and Severus felt a sharp tug in his chest.

The tugging grew until his chest felt as though it were being suctioned by a vacuum. The feeling grew even more intense until he shut his eyes to try and drive away the sensation. His ears were ringing, but the pressure finally stopped. Severus opened his eyes, and saw the door instead of the baby. He was about to move around when he noticed that he was in a physical body. But the proportions were all wrong, and he was on something warm, and—blast! He was the baby.

Severus groaned. If he had been in his own body, being a baby would be unpleasant but at least he would know who he was. Being in the body of a stranger’s child was frustrating. Dumbledore had flown far off his rocker during his time in the afterlife. How did he expect Severus to pick up living as someone else?

Well, at least this meant that he was likely a magical child, although he couldn’t rule out the possibility of being a Squib yet. If he were a wizard again, then he would attend Hogwarts. Would he meet his younger self? He wasn’t sure how that would work out, what with his soul possessing some stranger’s body. Why on earth had Dumbledore declared that this would be the best option for him to take?

Severus recalled Dumbledore’s words. _You will finally have the chance to love and be loved_.

The woman, or rather the mother of his physical self, seemed to love him. She was also older than most mothers, with streaks of gray in her black hair and plenty of wrinkles. Severus reasoned that he must be a sort-of “last hope” or “miracle child”, as self-aggrandizing as it sounded.

Severus found himself hoping that the woman’s husband would be magical, or at least understanding of magic. Thoughts of a drunken Tobias cursing at him and Eileen flashed in his mind. But Severus couldn’t quite remember the face of the older Snape. Did his father have the same hooked nose as Severus, or was it a bit straighter? Were his eyes black, or blue? Severus frowned.

Then a man walked into the room. He was middle-aged with a receding hairline and a belly, and he strode over to the bed. “Can I hold him?” He whispered.

“Go on, dear,” the mother said.

Severus was picked up by the man, and when he saw the man’s face, he knew right away that he would be loved by these parents. “My darling boy,” the man said in a shaky voice as his big, brown eyes welled up with tears. Severus’ new father pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, and Severus could feel a few warm, wet tears fall on his face.

The man went over to his wife and planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth. He then placed Severus on her chest.

“You did a wonderful job,” he said. “He’s a beautiful child.”

The woman smiled. “He’s our lovely boy. Our little miracle.”

Severus couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest. He smiled at his new parents, who cooed saccharine praises over him. Whoever they were, they glowed with affection and warmth. Severus sighed, content. At least for now, being a child was alright with him.

After a few more minutes of coos and praises, Severus felt adored. It was the strangest, most unfamiliar feeling, as if he were a once-homeless person turning the key in the doorknob of their new home. He gurgled at his parents, enjoying their gushing adoration thoroughly.

The man turned to his wife. “What was the name again?” He asked.

“Oh, stop it, you. We decided months ago!”

“Alright, alright,” he said with a wide grin. He stroked Severus’ head. “How’s it like to be a Jimbo, son?”

Severus assumed the man had named him James. Of course, that was a common enough name, but it still stung to have the same name as the infernal Potter. Severus decided that it would be alright to be James, and even nicknamed “Jimbo”, if it meant that he would have these parents. So he unleashed a bit of baby-babble on his parents in thanks, which tickled them pink.

The round-faced woman entered the room again while wielding several letters and packages. “Wee Ursula’s brought the post. Some congratulations from friends and family.”

“Already?” Severus’ mother said with a quizzical brow. She turned with a peeved look to her husband. He laughed, merry.

“I may have rushed off a birth notice after little Jimmy was born,” he said. “But don’t you worry, dear. I’ve expressly forbidden anyone from Flooing or Apparating in until you’ve approved them, and set that into the wards as well. You can never be too careful!”

“Hm, alright then,” she said, and she sorted through the packages.

Her husband found one and held it up. “Even old Mel’s sent her regards,” he said, with a look of surprise.

“That was kind of her,” she said with a faint smile. Severus noticed that her face was a cauldron of mixed emotions, like Eileen’s was during the rare times she received a letter from the Prince estate.

“Ah! Looks like we’ve got clothes for Jimmy in here,” his father said. He opened the package from Mel and began to shake.

“Dear, are you alright?” She said with concern.

“Yes, ah, I’m quite alright,” he said with a gasp. He unfolded the contents of the package and showed it to her.

It was a tiny set of footsie pyjamas the exact shade of green one would have found Severus wearing throughout his school career, complete with a pattern of little animated snakes curling up on themselves.

“Merlin’s beard,” he said through tears and laughter. “She’s the same old witch, isn’t she?”

Severus’ mother pressed a hand to her mouth as tears of mirth sprung from the corners of her eyes. “She must have been saving it all this time,” she said with a giggle.

The round woman walked back in to see what the commotion was, and she too started in a fit of laughter once she saw the green pyjamas.

In due time, the packages and letters were opened, and thank-you notes were all sent via Ursula the tawny owl, even to Mel.

Severus’ parents decided to outfit him in a different set of pyjamas, ones from the Longbottoms. From how they reacted to the pyjamas, Severus surmised that his parents must have been Gryffindors, but also that they might have pureblood connections if they were on the receiving end of such a Slytherin gift.

Severus’ father held up the blue and fleecy pyjamas for Severus to see. “Look, my handsome little lion. The Longbottoms even embroidered it for you!”

Severus did indeed take a look. He saw his name on the outfit, and immediately began crying.

His concerned parents tried to soothe their child. “There, there, Jimmy. What’s the matter?” His father asked.

“Oh dear, he must be tired. I’ll try to rock him to sleep. Wouldn't you like to rest up in the corner chair?”

“Of course.” The father went to go sit down while the mother cradled her son in her arms and soothed him with a well-worn lull-a-bye.

“Rock-a-bye baby, don’t you fear. Never mind, baby, mother is near. Wee little fingers, eyes are shut tight. Now sound asleep—until morning light.”

When she was certain that her little boy was ready to sleep, she smiled.

“Sweet dreams, my little hippogriff,” she whispered. The baby drifted off into sleep as the mother kissed his forehead. She laid him against her chest, and her husband came over to peck him on the forehead as well.

His parents both smiled at each other. “Goodnight,” they both whispered to their sleeping child.

Severus slumbered, having resigned himself to his fate. His parents had managed to get the blue pyjamas on him. Embroidered in gold was his full name:

_**James Fleamont Potter** _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, and with my first medium-sized fanfic! I've written about 2k more words and plan on writing around 10-15k more total. New chapters will take a while to come out since it's midterm season at uni & I have 2 other creative projects, but I promise you I will see this idea through to the end *strikes triumphant pose*
> 
> How this fic was born: "What happened to Snape after he died?" + "Haha wouldn't Snape just hate it if he reincarnated into Potter Sr" + "YES I need to make Severus be the cause of his own misery".
> 
> ...This will have a fluffy and uplifting ending, don't worry! The road to it will just be paved with Severus' angst :') Keep your grapes peeled for updates and hopefully this will be completed by the end of this year. Thanks for reading!


End file.
